


and we're not out of the tunnel (i bet you though there's an end)

by yurileclerc



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Golden Deer Class Merge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26012590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurileclerc/pseuds/yurileclerc
Summary: He loves him. He really loves him.Dimitri and Claude and the labors of love.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	and we're not out of the tunnel (i bet you though there's an end)

**Author's Note:**

> For @xamaxenta for the @fe3hexchange! I hope you like it! Based off I Will by Mitski bc its Dimiclaude. Beta'ed by the lovely @sylvainplath

He loves him, he really loves him. 

In moments like these, when they're in solitude, Claude relishes in it. He's never loved someone so intensely. The feeling is so foreign, and yet natural. Dimitri's hair has gotten longer in the few years they've been apart. Sylvain had even told Claude one night over dinner that its length was somewhat nostalgic. As a child, it was just as long, but as a child, it was never so unkempt. But in those days, he had the people in the kingdom in aiding to tend to it. Castle servants were his personal groomer, and they dedicated their time to making him look as lovely as possible.. 

However, he no longer has the kingdom, nor servants. They have abandoned him.

Dimitri, however, has not abandoned his kingdom. Despite how poorly the Kingdom has treated their mad king, his dedication never wavers. What once was a lust for revenge has quelled into a desire for better for his people. The delusional king no longer fights for revenge - he fights for a better future. That had always been his goal, ever since they'd been school boys at the academy. He just got lost along the way.

His descent from madness has slowed. Dimitri has calmed, and is now a benefit to his army. As they had only recently merged classes, Claude isn't very sure how he'd led his army _personally_ , but from an outsider perspective it was very messy. The distance between Dimitri and those fighting for Dimitri remains, and only a select few are allowed by his side. Claude is blessed to be amongst that selection. 

He loves him, he really loves him.

Few things are capable of calming the future king. Dimitri appreciates it when he takes care of him (Or loves? Does Dimitri love when Claude cares for him? Does he love anything anymore?). Moments where he can sit back, poor posture and all, and let his beloved run nimble fingers through his hair and take care of it properly. His 5 years of solitude hadn't been kind to him, and he certainly wasn’t worried about taking proper care of himself during that period.

There is no issue when it comes to doing what Dimitri does not care to do himself. Claude is making good of his promise. That he'd never leave him. No matter what.

It’s why Dimitri sits with his back pressed against Claude’s knees, humming to himself as he washes his hair. Dimitri’s aching for closeness, and Claude’s deep rooted love for him - It is why it is now a routine. Why he feels so inclined to care for Dimitri, even when Dimitri does not want to care for himself. 

Claude hums to himself as he scratches at his Dimitri's scalp. Dimitri is quiet, pulling his legs to his chest for a semblance of warmth. They are almost finished for the night. Claude pours water on top of his head, and his love sneezes at the jarring change. Claude laughs to himself, washing out the bubbles left behind.

“How cute of you, Mitya.”

Dimitri grunts in response. He curls in on himself, and Claude looks over him like a passage. Studies him like a sacred text. His back is littered with scars he's collected over the years. Some are deeper than the others, some are new. He runs a finger over a particularly large and fresh one, indulging in the shiver Dimitri gives in response.

Claude inhales through his nose, leaning forward to press his forehead to Dimitri’s back.

“My moon, you are so beautiful.”

In a rare show of affection, Dimitri lays back, leaning against Claude. Claude’s hands trail to his shoulders - holds him close. Not tight enough to hurt him, not loose enough to lose him. And they sit. Because in that moment, there is peace. No war. No fear of losing the other. Just Dimitri, Claude, and the dripping of the faucet into the bath.

Dimitri is the first to pull away. He steps out of the tub, sits on the little stool reserved for Dimitri only - back turned away from his beloved. Claude stays there for a moment. Lets the cogs in his brain turn before he finally gets up, grabs a towel, and walks towards Dimitri to stand behind him. His posture is horrible, so unlike what it once was. He throws the towel over his head, not unlike one would to a freshly groomed dog, and rubs the wetness away. Dimitri whines a bit; Claude laughs. 

“Clauude,” he whines. It’s the first thing he’s said to him all evening. Dimitri doesn’t like to talk anymore. Claude doesn’t mind.

Claude chuckles to himself again. Plays with a couple strands of his hair as Dimitri mumbles to no one.

“I’m sorry, Dima. I couldn’t help it.” Dimitri returns to the curse of silence. Claude does not push, just rubs the towel over his head a few more times. In utter compliance, Dimitri's shoulders relax. Claude ends up staring at the expanse of his back again, staring in adoration at the scars littered against his back. Runs his hands against it again. He never wishes for Dimitri to talk, but at this moment he would love to know what he is thinking. Is he uncomfortable? Does it soothe him? Given by the small hitches of his breathing, it surely can't be that bad. 

He presses a kiss to the back of his neck. To his cheek. His neck again. His shoulder. Dimitri hums, turns his head and kisses Claude. Thankfully, some things never change, and he’s glad the surprises weren’t lost in all the madness. 

He helps Dimitri up. Grabs his hand and leads him to their quarters. When they enter, Dimitri stands in silence. Looks at the bed like an enemy. 

“Lay down, Mitya," Claude whispers, running a hand up and down his shoulder, "It’s bed time.”

Dimitri hesitates, lips now curled into a frown.

“Dimitri.” 

Again, he hesitates. 

“Is something wrong?” Claude asks with a furrow to his brow.

Dimitri grunts again, sulks towards the bed and lays under the covers. A victorious Claude climbs in beside him. His love, his darling, his moon, curls up beside him - cuddles into his neck and breathes in.

“Do I smell good?” Claude laughs. Dimitri ignores him and curls further into him. He’s asleep instantly, and Claude is sure it has something to do about him being a pacifier to the nightmares. The reason why he slept so easily when Claude was around. Whatever he’d told him all those years ago.

As he lays in his arms, Claude realizes it. He is afraid. Afraid to lose what’s so dear to him. Dimitri is everything to him. Everything good in his life. Had he been a hair too late, would he have lost him? He lost him once, permanently. To lose his very being would be far too devastating. 

The thought sends him into a panic. His chest rises and falls. He looks back at Dimitri. He sleeps peacefully - despite the slight movement and whimper from time to time. Claude rubs his back in an attempt to soothe him. He loves him. His angel, his dear, his moon, his star, his _everything._

He wonders if Dimitri feels the same. 

He runs his hands through the hair he’d been playing with earlier that evening. It’s damaged from years of neglect, but slowly flourishing as he eats more. It's a struggle to even do _that_ for him, but small steps are better than no steps, Claude thinks.

Slowly, Dimitri returns to who he once was. Rodrigue’s death had apparently been the pioneer to such a revelation. As evil and selfish as it sounds, Claude is grateful for it. He hadn’t known him. He knows Dimitri. He’d rather him alive. 

Dimitri mumbles something as he sleeps, and Claude kisses his head in response. He doesn’t sleep much anymore - to protect Dimitri from his own mind. He kisses his head again. Dimitri squirms a bit, but never actually wakes up. It makes Claude smile. Maybe Claude can be just as important to Dimitri as Dimitri is to Claude.

“Sleep well, my love,” Claude says against his hair, “when you wake, I will be brave. Just like how you’re brave for me.”

Claude wants Dimitri to be scared. For a little bit longer. 


End file.
